


Roberta

by whiteduck6



Category: Z Nation (TV)
Genre: Anxiety, Coming Out, Connor gets smacked on the head, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, autistic 10k, it's not really a big deal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 10:15:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17181056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiteduck6/pseuds/whiteduck6
Summary: 10k comes out to Roberta.





	Roberta

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! Sorry it's been so long, but I was doing NaNoWriMo and then I was just super burnt out after that and I caught up on Z Nation, so I was binging American Horror Story, and ultimately it's a lot of excuses but after a wait that's far longer than is fair I'm back with another fic! Please enjoy!

10k balances the last glass bottle on the fence. 

He jogs back over to Connor — he’s about twenty-five yards away — and pulls his slingshot out of its hidden pocket.

“Don’t aim,” he says, fitting a gear into the slingshot and drawing it back. He smacks a bottle off the fence — he picks one far to the left, so he doesn’t take the easy targets from Connor. “Just do it.”

“Nike, got it,” Connor says, and 10k laughs. 

“Here,” 10k says, giving him his slingshot and a nut with about a half inch diameter. “Just try and hit one of them.”

Connor pulls the slingshot back and releases it.

Nothing happens.

Connor’s face falls, just for a second, but then he laughs sort of weakly. “Damn, you must think I’m bad.”

“You’re not bad,” 10k says, “everyone’s bad when they start. And a slingshot is harder to use than a gun.”

“I’m wasting ammo, all the same,” Connor mutters. It’s obviously not something 10k was supposed to pick up.

“I can just use rocks, you know that, right?” 10k says. He hands Connor another piece of bric-a-brac from his pocket — this one is a ball bearing.

Connor shoots again, and dings the edge of a bottle. He doesn’t break it, but it sort of wobbles on its own until it falls off the fence.

“Nice!” 10k says. 

“That wouldn’t have killed a zee,” Connor replies dryly.

“You know how long I’ve been shooting stuff?” 10k says, hoping it won’t look like he’s trying to change the topic to himself.

“How long?” Connor asks as he holds out his hand for another piece of ammo. 10k gives him a chunk of gravel.

“Since I was about nine,” 10k says. “That’s when I started using a slingshot. My pa taught me how to shoot a gun when I was . . . fourteen? And I’m nineteen now. You’re not bad. I’ve just had a lot of practice.”

Connor shoots a bottle and it shatters.

“You’ll get better,” 10k says, “you’ll get as good as me.”

Connor smiles at him as 10k gives him another ball bearing, and it feels a little more sincere this time.

He shatters one of the bottles.

—

10k makes Connor keep practicing until he’s nearly out of ammo. Connor doesn’t let him run completely out.

“You need it,” he says. 

“I have a gun,” 10k says back, but he knows Connor’s right. The slingshot is better for close quarters, and it’s more quiet than his gun, even with a silencer.

As they’re looking around in the grass just past the fence for any leftover ammo they can find, Connor asks him, “Who are you planning on telling next?”

“Addy,” 10k says without hesitation. He’d be surprised if she didn’t know already — she and Cassandra tell each other everything — but he figures if the shit hits the fan with Murphy, he needs her on his side. 

“Yeah, she’s bi, huh?” Connor says, handing 10k a gear.

“How did you know?” A jolt of fear runs through 10k before his rational brain kicks in and reminds him that Connor isn’t going to be a dick about it — it would be hypocritical beyond belief.

“She’s dating Cassandra,” Connor says, “but she talks about Chris Evans like he’s the most attractive man on earth. For the record,” he adds, looking up at 10k. “He’s not.”

10k doesn’t really know what to say to that.

Connor smirks. “George Clooney is.”

10k’s pretty sure he’s joking, but Connor’s laugh reassures him. Connor nudges 10k’s shoulder with his own, and 10k purses his lips to keep from smiling too widely.

“Don’t worry,” Connor says, nudging 10k’s shoulder with his own. “George Clooney probably hasn’t killed two thousand zombies.”

“2,667,” 10k corrects. 

“You ever kill a famous zombie?” Connor asks. “Like, have you ever seen a celebrity?”

10k thinks back to it. “Once I’m pretty sure I saw Steve Irwin.”

“He was dead pre-z, dear,” Connor says dryly. 

“Yeah, but I swear, this was his identical twin,” 10k laughs as he stands up, brushing his hands off on his pants. Connor follows suit and they head back to their little campsite.

They’ve been able to stay in the same area for a few days while they rest up — Murphy sprained his ankle after falling in a gopher hole, and Roberta finally gave in and let them take a break. 10k’s set up a tarp he found as a sort of makeshift tent, and they have a small fire going with some large, flat rocks around it to act as chairs.

It’s comfortable. 

It’s relaxing.

It’s dangerous.

—

A few zombies show up sometimes, and usually Doc or Addy take care of them, since they both have melee weapons. Cassandra’s set up some empty cans on strings around the perimeter of their camp so the zees will wake them up, but this one’s fast. 

The zee crashes into 10k and Connor’s tent, and 10k wakes up from a dead sleep. He’s been sleeping heavily ever since he and Connor got together. He’s going to need to train himself out of that. 

“Jesus!” He yelps as the zombie struggles around in the tarp. He pulls out his combat knife and stabs it through the tarp, not thinking twice about the hole he’s making. He can always duct tape it shut.

He glances over to Connor, who has his pistol drawn. His hands are shaking. 

“Hey, you’re okay,” 10k says, gently prying the pistol out of his hands. “These fast ones are usually on their own, right?”

He still has his fingers wrapped around Connor’s as Roberta hauls the tarp off of them. 10k pulls his hands away like they’ve been burned. 

“We’re okay,” he says, because he knows she’s going to ask. “I mercied him.”

“No bites?” Roberta asks.

“None.”

“Scratches?”

“No.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

Roberta looks over the two of them for a few more heart-stopping moments before she finally steps away.

“Fuckin’ apocalypse,” she mutters as she turns and leaves, and Connor rests his forehead on 10k’s shoulder. 

“Sorry, I shouldn’t be . . .” Connor takes a deep, shaky breath. “They just freak me out.”

10k coughs out a quiet laugh. “I think they freak everyone out.”

“You don’t seem scared.”

10k purses his lips. “I’ve seen enough of them that I’m desensitized.”

“How long did that take?” Connor asks as he stands up and starts to separate the tarp from the zombie.

“Pretty soon after it all went down,” 10k says, thinking of his pa as he helps Connor drape the tarp back over the rope strung between two trees.

As they lie in their sleeping bags, coming down from the adrenaline rush of near-death, 10k wonders how much he should tell Connor.

—

10k’s shift on watch starts early in the morning and doesn’t really end. He’s still on watch by the time everyone is naturally waking up.

He doesn’t mind, but he never realized how cold it was at night without someone beside him until he had something to compare it to.

Connor sits beside him as they eat breakfast, and they make light conversation with the rest of the group as birds chitter in the trees.

“How’s your ankle?” Roberta asks Murphy, finally. 10k’s seen him walking on it without a limp, so he’s interested to see what Murphy says. 

“I guess I can keep going,” Murphy says dramatically, rotating his ankle around and making exaggerated pained faces. 

“’S’all I needed to hear,” Roberta says, clapping her hands on her knees and standing up. “Get packed up, people. We’re back on the road.”

10k’s going to miss this spot. It was relatively safe, and it felt nice to wake up in the same place every morning. 

Maybe, someday, they could have that kind of future.

For now, he folds up his tarp, braids his rope back into a bracelet, and gets back in the truck without a fuss. 

At least he and Connor are out of sight of the rest of the group now. 

10k tucks himself under Connor’s arm as soon as they start moving, Connor occasionally pointing out notable zombies or defaced road signs. 

“Check that out,” Connor says, pointing at one of the big, rectangular road signs that someone’s spray-painted a cartoonish drawing of a zombie on. 

“Do you want to go off on our own, after we get to California?” 10k asks. He knows it’s out of the blue, but the question has been pushing at his throat for days.

Connor’s silent for a few moments, and 10k looks over, certain he’s lost him. _This is it,_ he thinks to himself, _he thinks I’m crazy, he thinks I’m too invested, he thinks—_

“I’d be into that,” Connor says, squeezing 10k a little. “But I think Doc would want to come with us.”

“I wouldn’t leave him alone,” 10k says. 

“I know you wouldn’t,” Connor says, pressing a kiss to the top of 10k’s head. “That’s fine. He’s a great guy, and he’s not too bad at killing zees.”

“Okay,” 10k says, letting out a relieved breath. “Okay.”

“Did you think I wouldn’t be okay with it?” Connor asks.

“N-no, not really, I guess,” 10k says, trying to find the words to explain his anxiety. “I mean, I knew you would be okay with it, but my brain was trying really hard to convince me that you wouldn’t be, and, like, logically, I know you would, but—“  
“Hey,” Connor cuts off his nervous rambling gently. 10k sucks in a breath through his teeth.

“Shit, sorry,” he says, “I don’t normally . . . do that.”

“It’s okay,” Connor says, tipping his cheekbone onto the top of 10k’s head. “You were nervous. Don’t apologize about it.”

“It’s more the, uh, babbling about nothing,” 10k says. He feels a hot flush creep up his cheeks. 

“Don’t apologize,” Connor says. “It’s nothing to apologize for.”

10k doesn’t know what he should say to that, so he kisses Connor softly on the corner of his mouth, instead. Connor grins against his lips and leans into the kiss. 

10k doesn’t even notice that they’ve stopped until the slam of a car door pulls him out of his reverie, and he jerks his head away from Connor’s so fast he almost gives himself whiplash. He looks to the driver’s side door to see that Roberta is getting out. 

“There’s a mall a few blocks ahead,” she says. “I don’t think we should take the truck up that far — it’s too loud — but we should walk over and see if there’s anything good.”

“Yeah, yeah,” 10k says, trying to look innocent. The way Roberta’s eyes linger on him for a few moments, he’s pretty sure he’s not doing it right. 

“Are we all going?” Connor pipes up. 

“Yeah,” Roberta says, “we’re safer in groups.”

They make the brief walk over to the mall — Roberta and Murphy in front, then 10k and Connor, then Cassandra, Addy, and Doc in the back. 10k doesn’t quite feel comfortable holding Connor’s hand in front of the group yet — and there’s still the risk that Roberta or — god forbid — Murphy could see them, so he settles for just brushing the outside of his hand against Connor’s occasionally. Connor doesn’t make any move to go further, but he does glance over at 10k and smile at him, which makes the rest of 10k’s steps floaty and light. 

When they get there, Roberta steps through a broken glass door, glancing around and then gesturing for the others to follow her. 10k pulls his slingshot out of his pocket and Connor pulls a knife out of his belt. 

“10k, there’s a hunting store in here,” Roberta says as she looks at a mall directory. “Check that out. Addy, Cassandra, come with me. Doc and Murphy, you guys go to the drugstore, see what’s left.”

“I’ll go with 10k,” Connor says, maybe a little too quickly, but Roberta doesn’t notice. She nods distractedly and beckons Addy and Cassandra over to her. Doc and Murphy head off in another direction, and Connor and 10k make their way to the hunting store.

There aren’t any zees along the way — the store looks looted, but abandoned. The items in the store have all held up pretty well — its amazing what a solid roof will do to preserve stuff.

10k shoves a roll of fishing line into his pocket, and Connor’s trying to figure out how to load batteries into a camping flashlight when there’s a dry, scraping noise behind them.

10k turns on his heel, grabbing a little gear from his pocket and fitting it to his slingshot, but the zee grabs Connor and he can’t get a good shot. 

Connor falls and something smacks against the harsh metal edge of a display table. Connor shouts, and 10k lets the gear drop to the ground. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he hears people running towards him — several people — and he briefly thinks it could be more zees before his mind sharpens to the razor-point of _Connor is going to die if you don’t do something_ and he bashes the zee in the back of the head with the butt of his slingshot.

The zee stumbles back, disoriented, and Connor kicks it in the gut as 10k pulls his gun off his back and holds it like a baseball bat as he slams the zee in the temple with the butt with all his strength.

The zee collapses to the ground and half its head is gone, but it’s still clawing weakly at the ground, so 10k stomps on its open skull cavity with his heel and its rotting brain splatters across the ground as it finally shuts up. 

“Connor, are you okay?” 10k breathes, dropping to a crouch as he looks over Connor. He looks a little dazed, but unhurt. “Did it get you?”

He starts scanning Connor’s exposed arms and face for scratches or bites, and Connor pulls 10k’s hands into his own, looking up at him with slightly glassy but caring eyes. 

“Hey, I’m okay,” he says, cupping his hand around the back of 10k’s head to give him a wobbly kiss. 

“Glad to see you boys got this dealt with,” Roberta says from behind them. 

10k jumps away from Connor, distracting himself with helping him up so he doesn’t have to meet Roberta’s eyes. It’s not unusual for him not to look directly at someone when he’s speaking to them, but he feels like it would look more suspicious this time.

“We should head back to the truck,” 10k says, still not looking at Roberta. When he glances around at the shoes of everyone in the room, he recognizes Addy’s boots and Cassandra’s sneakers. 

_Great. Addy’s here too. That’s awesome._

10k hurries out of the room with Connor before any of the women can say anything else, and pretty much drags him outside of the mall, where he can get a good look at Connor’s head without a crowd of gawkers. 

He sits Connor down so he’s facing away from the sun, and parts his shaggy brown hair so he can get a look at the wound.

It’s not really bleeding that badly, not the way head wounds normally do. It’s a bad bruise that’s leaking a little, that’s all. 

It should really have something cold on it, but in the middle of an Oregon summer that’s not going to happen. 10k settles for scouring the blood from his head with the hem of his shirt before it clots and turns into a mat.

Connor spits and hisses like a feral cat while 10k rubs the blood off, only quieting down when 10k plants a gentle kiss on the swelling spot like his ma used to do.

“There, I won’t touch it anymore,” 10k says. “Just keep your hands off it and it should be fine. It’s not really bleeding that bad anymore.”

“10k!” Roberta calls from the entrance of the mall. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

10k scans the area. No zees. “Will you be okay on your own?” He asks Connor, who still looks a little loopy.

“Yeah,” Connor says. “I’m kinda tired, though.”  
“Don’t fall asleep,” 10k says, trying to clap him on the shoulder but ending up sort of shoving him a little bit. It seems to wake him up, though, and 10k jogs over to Roberta as a pit forms in his stomach. He has the approval of Cassandra and Doc, but Roberta’s a force when she puts her mind to something. He can’t shut up the nervous little voice in his head that says Roberta’s gonna tell him to get lost. 

“10k,” Roberta says, crossing her arms and looking at the ground. “You, uh . . .”

10k doesn’t know how to respond to that, so he doesn’t. He swallows heavily.

“You and Connor, huh?”

Again, 10k doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t want to look at Roberta.

Roberta puts her hand on his shoulder, gently, but leaning into the pressure like he likes. “It’s okay,” she says, wrapping him in a tight hug. “It’s okay.”

10k grits his teeth and swallows the lump in his throat. He squeezes his eyes tightly shut so he doesn’t cry in front of her. 

“Head on back to him,” Roberta says as she lets him go, jabbing her chin towards Connor. 

10k hurries away without looking back, but a grin tugs at his lips as he walks. 

“She okay?” Connor asks, nodding towards Roberta.

“Yeah,” 10k says, sitting beside Connor and letting Connor lean on him. 

“Yeah, she’s okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, constructive criticism is appreciated!


End file.
